


Day One

by mxrphvs (ssulrealism)



Category: X1 (Korea Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:47:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22310539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssulrealism/pseuds/mxrphvs
Summary: Seungwoo agrees to model for Seungyeon, which kickstarts the first day of their relationship.
Relationships: Cho Seungyeon | Seungyoun/Han Seungwoo
Comments: 2
Kudos: 45
Collections: 99&UP Fic Fest





	Day One

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you like this fic ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ I hope that if you were the person who came up with the original prompt that you're happy with what I wrote!!! I had a lot of fun writing this!! 
> 
> I'm sorry I suck at writing up summaries ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

_ Day 0.  _

Hangyul had told him it would be an easy job. Some fashion student, with more money than god, desperately needed another model for his upcoming showcase. 

“He’s willing to pay whatever it takes man, just take it.” His friend tells him before shoving a handful of fries into his mouth. An electric hum from the fluorescent lights buzzes on as Seungwoo thinks. He needs the money, part-time work has been hard to come by lately, as he’s been prioritizing his studies. If the kid is willing to pay what Hangyul says he is, he could pay off a bit of debt. He wouldn’t need to ask for money from his mother this month. Wouldn’t need to burden her with the responsibility of sneaking a couple thousand won here and there behind his father’s back. But he’s never modeled before, never walked a runway. He has no experience— 

“Dude.” Hangyul’s voice tears away at Seungwoo’s overcrowding thoughts. 

“You’re thinking too deeply about this. You don’t gotta walk down a runway or anything. You literally just stand around as still as you can and try not to flinch when a professor fiddles at a sleeve hem.” 

Seungwoo nods, taking his friend’s words into account. 

“Okay. I’ll do it.” _There is no way I could say no; I need the money._

“Perfect!” Hangyul claps his hands, the sound reverberating throughout the near empty canteen. Leaning back into his chair, stretching outward, he laughs. 

“Don’t worry. He’s gonna love you.” 

_Day 1/2._

Seungwoo often finds himself pondering the futility of life. It’s a stifling hot day. Summer is approaching fast, and everyone is running around, furiously doing their best to finish projects on time. He can’t help but wonder if the effort is worth it. 

His goal was never to be an English student. But it was his fall back plan, analyzing works has never been difficult for him, and he’d always gotten full marks in high school. Even in college, he finds he never has to put in his all. 

He had always longed to be a football star, like Seol Kihyeon or Hwang Sun-Hongh. He was a striker, chasing the ball game after game to the cheers of a rowdy crowd. He longed for those precious moments when his foot connected with the ball and went clear through to the net. No goalie could touch it. 

But all it took was one badly placed kick to the knee. It hadn’t been intentional, the player _swears_ , but when his cleat met Seungwoo’s kneecap there was a bright, hot, searing pain that’s familiar to anyone who has ever broken a bone. He still remembers how his body crumpled onto the wet grass as his ears rang with the shouts of his teammates. The pain so unbearable that he passed out while being carried out on a stretcher. 

When he wakes up, he’s in a hospital room with his mother and sister by his side. His father is waiting outside, unable to look at his son. He’ll never forget the words his sister tells him when their mother leaves to find a doctor. There’s a bite of bitter resentment as she tells him. 

“He said he can’t face you.” She breaks down in tears. “He said he can’t forgive a son who faints like a girl. ‘ _What kind of man can’t deal with a little pain?_ ’” 

But such words aren’t uncommon for their family. And Seungwoo can only nod, jaw clenched from the pain of his knee and the ever aching sorrow of disappointment in his heart. 

_Day 1._

The moment Seungyoun lays his eyes on Seungwoo it’s like a scene from that romance comic he’d stolen from a friend once. There’s cherry blossoms everywhere--Seungyoun sees everything with a rosy tint. Seungwoo is radiant as the lights of Seungyoun’s studio hit his skin. 

_He’s gorgeous._

Hangyul hadn’t told him he’d be this gorgeous. 

Seungyoun had come to Hangyul, pleading on his knees, whining that he needed another model. Yibo had dropped out without so much as a good-bye text. The asshole. 

“Just let me borrow Wooseok for an hour— half an hour!” 

“Back off.” Hangyul had said, with a slightly more possessive tone than necessary, which made one of Seungyoun’s eyebrows raise. He would catalog that in his brain for later. _Interesting_. 

Hangyul had coughed, aware of his slip up and immediately redirected Seungyoun’s attention back to the matter at hand. 

“I have a friend. I’m sure he’d be willing to help, he’s 6 feet, used to be a football star. His jaw could cut glass, and he won’t mess with your aesthetics. I’m sure you’ll like him.” 

“Deal! I’ll pay whatever necessary!” 

Seungyoun suddenly has the urge to shower, change his clothes, maybe dab on some bb cream— how long has he secluded himself in his studio, only thinking about his designs? The very studio Seungyoun had picked against his parents wishes because it was bare bones and cheap. He may have been born with a silver spoon in his mouth, but he was determined to make his own way in the world. Well, most of it. 

_Shit._ He really wished he had listened to his mother right now. 

He feels underdressed and undone, and Seungwoo won’t stop coming closer to him with a gentle smile on his face. Angels probably weep at the sight of his beauty. 

Seungwoo reaches his hand out, and Seungyoun doesn’t even think as the words tumble out the second their hands meet. 

“Go out with me.” 

Hangyul doesn’t even try to suppress the bellowing laugh as it leaves his lips. Seungyoun can feel Seungwoo tense up, and he realizes he’s probably made a mistake, but there’s no going back now so might as well press on. 

“I-“ Seungwoo stutters for a moment. 

“I’ll have to think about.” He says with sympathy, and Seungyoun knows he’s been rejected. 

But he’s not willing to give in, not without a fight. 

Later that night, his eyes are bleary, mind fighting sleep with every stroke of the pen as he catalogs tomorrow’s duties. He’s about to close his journal shut when he acts on impulse; drawing a small star on the square that marks the day’s date. He shoves everything into his bag, vowing to take a shower first, before he passes out. 

_ Day 25.  _

Ever since their first meeting Seungwoo has found that Seungyoun is never too far away. He assimilates into Seungwoo and Hangyul’s friend group with such ease that it leaves him in awe. He already knew Wooseok, but he easily charms Byungchan and Seungsik too. Still, the younger man keeps a polite distance. Most of the time they’re just in each other’s proximity. Slowly, he begins to learn more about Seungyoun. He’s not a picky eater, never once questioning the canteen food served to him. He speaks English and knows Portuguese. 

“You know Portuguese?” Seungwoo asks, after watching Seungyoun help a lost exchange student. 

“Some.” Seungyoun says with a shrug as the two continue walking to the meet up point. 

“Where did you learn Portuguese?” 

“Brazil.” 

“When did you live in Brazil?” There’s a crack in Seungwoo’s voice, but he’s too immersed in his conversation with Seungyoun to be self conscious. 

“When I was there to play football as a kid.” 

“You what?” Seungwoo’s voice raises another octave, and there’s a sparkle in his eyes. They’re walking side-to-side, but Seungyoun still turns away from the other man slightly, wanting to conceal his grin. 

_ Day 32.  _

They’re all hanging out, watching Byungchan and Hangyul drunkenly shout their way through Kara’s Mister in a dark norebang booth. They’ve all had more to drink than normal. Seungyoun’s mind is foggy, and as he watches Seungwoo immersed in their friend’s performance, he decides to take a chance, moving closer to Seungwoo, so close that their thighs touch. Seungwoo freezes, and Seungyoun wonders if he’s overstepped a boundary. But then he feels Seungwoo relax, their shoulders coming into contact as he leans back into his seat. 

“Are you tired?” Seungwoo asks him, attention now focused on Seungyoun. 

“Can I rest my head on your shoulder?” Seungyoun replies, testing Seungwoo’s boundaries once again. 

Seungwoo nods. 

Seungwoo’s shoulder isn’t the most comfortable pillow, but Seungyoun still finds himself lulled into sleep from the rhythmic up and down of Seungwoo’s breathing. 

When he wakes up, he’s all alone in the booth. With a brown jacket way too large to be his draped over his body. He panics, thinking everyone has left him. Hangyul had been his ride-- but then Seungwoo comes into view. 

“Sorry, the others all left an hour ago.” he tells him, while handing Seungyoun a cup of water which Seungyoun gratefully sips. 

When they leave Seungyoun is still wearing Seungwoo’s jacket. When Seungyoun almost trips, legs still feeble from exhaustion, Seungwoo holds out his hand. Suddenly, Seungyoun feels like he’s already had five shots of espresso when he hasn’t even had a sip. If Seungwoo notices his nerves on their walk to Seungyoun’s apartment, he doesn’t say a thing. 

It’s only when he’s all alone and in his own bed that Seungyoun finally pinches himself in the arm, expecting it to have all been a dream. 

_Day 45._

“Why did you quit football?” 

Seungyoun and Seungwoo find themselves in Seungwoo’s cramped apartment, curled up on the couch. Seungwoo doesn’t think twice about the fact that Seungyoun links their arms the moment they sit down. 

Still, he’s not very forthcoming about himself, he never has been, never felt a reason to be. Wooseok and Hangyul don’t need his tragic life story to feel comfortable hanging out with him. And Seungsik and Byungchan knew him from before, had lived through it. Everyone he’s known has been comfortable with knowing the basic facts. He used to play football; he doesn’t anymore. Done. 

But Seungyoun wants more. He wants to understand. Seungwoo still hasn’t figured out why that makes him feel so… vulnerable. 

The question lingers in the air before sitting on Seungwoo’s chest like a heavy brick. He moves away from Seungyoun, and the younger takes notice, eyes watching as he untangles their bodies and moves to the furthest part of the couch. Finding himself unable to look Seungyoun in the eyes. 

“I just did. I didn’t want to play anymore.” 

He hopes that answer will suffice, but as soon as the words leave his mouth, he knows it won’t. Because Seungyoun is tenacious. 

“Does it have to do with the scar on your knee?” 

Seungwoo curses him out in his head. He’s trying to control his breathing; he hasn’t felt this surge of emotions in a long time. 

“Yeah.” 

Seungyoun pauses the movie and holds Seungwoo’s hand as everything spills out. Doesn’t say a word till Seungwoo’s done, doesn’t complain when he holds his hand so tight both their knuckles go white. 

_ Day 46.  _

Seungwoo wakes up on his couch expecting Seungyoun to be gone. He expects to be abandoned. Seungyoun knows his weakness now. He knows Seungwoo is damaged. He won’t want anything to do with him. Instead, he finds Seungyoun humming along to One Ok Rock while he fries up some eggs. Seungyoun spots him, and the smile he gives Seungwoo makes him grateful that there’s a roof over his head. He might float off into the sky if there isn’t. 

“Hey, sleepyhead! I made breakfast as a thank you. But uhmm…” He stares at the two eggs in his pan. “You didn’t have oil or butter so I used vinegar instead. I’m sure it’s okay? Smells a little—” 

“I love you.” 

“What?!” 

One of Seungyoun’s hands lets go of the pan, and then he realizes that is the only hand holding onto the pan, and he tries to catch it with the other one. 

“Ouch!” 

Luckily, the eggs are cooked through and through, and they stay stuck even after the frying pan clatters against the tile floor. Seungwoo can’t stop laughing as he rushes Seungyoun’s hand to the nearest sink so it can be held under cold water. As Seungyoun bandages his hand, Seungwoo picks the still warm pan up and dumps it in the sink. 

“How about we go out for breakfast?” He suggests. 

“Yeah, that sounds good.” Seungyoun responds, with a wide smile. 

_ Day 100.  _

Normally, the neighborhood cafe is quiet on a weekday, but today, he finds that it’s buzzing with students. Something about a handsome barista. Seungyoun finds Seungwoo asleep in a secluded booth towards the back. He slides in next to him and watches for a moment before deciding that maybe he should come back later. 

“Wait.” Seungwoo’s voice is husky and dry from sleep as he grabs onto his boyfriend’s wrist. 

“Bad shift?” Seungyoun asks. 

“Yeah.” 

Seungyoun slips his fingers through Seungwoo’s and sighs. 

“You don’t have to work.” 

“I like working.” 

They leave the conversation alone, and Seungwoo bends slightly so he can give Seungyoun a kiss on the forehead. 

“I have something for you.” Seungyoun says. 

He pulls out a thin faux snakeskin box from his bag. In it is a single piece of cream cloth with frayed edges. Seungwoo’s name is written in sharpie by Seungyoun’s hand. 

“Is this from the—?” 

“The showcase, yeah. My professors wanted to keep the outfit to display, but I took the name tag out first. Happy one hundred days.”

“We’ve only been going out for two months.” 

“But we’ve known each other for a hundred days.” 

Seungwoo is grateful that no one ever comes this far back, and that the booth is in the security cam’s blindspot. Because his response could’ve gotten him fired. 

_ Day 1,575.  _

Seungwoo can’t believe how small Dongpyo is. He can fit into his two hands so neatly, it scares him. He’s never held a baby before, and it shows. He’s seen Dongpyo before, they had visited him in the NICU, but he would always defer to Seungyoun when it came to holding him. It’s amazing to him, that humans start off so small. 

It’s been four years now since their first day together, maybe more than that. They’ve graduated, Seungyoun starting a label with Hangyul. Wooseok owns a cafe. Byungchan is off trading stocks. Seungsik is traveling the world as a famous singer. Seungwoo lives his life peacefully, only ever interrupted by nagging phone calls from his editor. Because he ignores their emails. His work has won awards. It had been Seungyoun who’d suggested that he think about writing professionally. 

“For a man who hates showing emotion, you sure don’t write like it.” Seungyoun told him after spending an afternoon crying over one of his unfinished manuscripts. “Now finish this. I want a happy ending.” 

Seungwoo had obliged, but in the version he had submitted, they both die. Or maybe they were dead all along? 

That’s how he gets his agent and a seven figure publishing deal. Within a week of its release he’s hounded with requests for translation and foreign distribution.

He’s restless. With Dongpyo in his arms he feels like it’s a race against time. They have to get out of the hospital fast, before everyone there—the nurses, doctors, adoption agency representatives, birth parents—realize it was a mistake to put this small baby’s life in the hands of two men who didn’t know how to work a rice cooker two years ago. But Seungyoun has to finish signing some paperwork, and he’s busy chatting with the representative. After ten torturous minutes, he sidles up to Seungwoo with the car keys and everything they need. He takes one look at Seungwoo’s face and bursts out laughing. Seungwoo shushes him. 

“This is a hospital.” 

“They’re not going to take him away, baby. We went through five background checks, seven home visits, we’re in the clear.” 

Seungwoo would reach out for his husband’s hand for moral support, but he’s too afraid of dropping Dongpyo. 

“Promise?” 

“Promise.” 

  
  


_ Day 1,576. _

He can’t stop pacing. He sits down on the couch, only to be compelled to rise again. There’s no sound from the baby room. Dongpyo is asleep. Do babies normally sleep this much? He should google that. What if he’s sick? He was in the NICU for so long. What if his tiny immune system isn’t able to adapt to the outside? What if he’s being smothered by a decorative pillow that’s fallen on top of his head, and Seungwoo can’t hear his feeble baby cries for help?

He carefully cracks open the door to the baby room. Cautious as he tiptoes in to check on Dongpyo, who is fast asleep in his crib. The pillows still neatly placed on top of the dresser, five feet away. 

Seungyoun comes home with an armful of thread samples and a box of cupcakes from the new French bakery that has three hour wait times. He hadn’t waited, of course, he sent his assistant. 

He comes home to find Seungwoo with dark purple bags under his eyes. Resting his chin on the high chair tray, fighting against sleep. Dongpyo seems perfectly happy, prodding his father’s cheek with his tiny hand.

“Did you get any sleep last night? Or today, for that matter?” Seungyoun asks as he picks up Dongpyo, cleaning his face with a soft napkin. 

“No.” Seungwoo answers, rubbing his eyes. Not even making an attempt to get up from the floor. 

“Will you try to get some now?” Seungyoun asks, although both men know that it’s not a question. 

“Yeah.” And Seungwoo wearily picks himself up and slinks off to bed for a small nap before dinner. 

_Day 1,577._

Seungyoun hands him a rather large but weightless box. 

“A baby monitor?” Seungwoo asks. 

“It’s got a video feed with sound. So you don’t have to worry so much.” Seungyoun informs him. 

They spend the next couple of hours switching off playing with Dongpyo and setting up the cameras in the baby room. When it’s finally done Seungyoun takes Dongpyo’s tiny baby hand so he can wave at Seungwoo from the tablet in the living room. Seungwoo holds the tablet close to his chest. 

_ Day 1,976. _

It’s been a year, and Dongpyo is now eating like a champ. He’s not willing to share with his new baby brother, Dohyun at all. In fact, he keeps stealing Dohyun’s pureed carrots. 

“Dongpyo. Keep your hands to your own plate.” Seungwoo warns. He doesn’t say please. He feels like he should’ve said please. Dongpyo’s eyes get watery, and he starts to cry. Which makes Dohyun cry. Now both Seungwoo and Seungyoun are bouncing their kids in their laps, trying to get a smile. Once they’ve calmed down, Dongpyo’s hand starts idly inching closer towards Dohyun, and Seungwoo intercepts, handing Dongpyo a tiny piece of roasted carrot to call his own. 

“He’s got you wrapped around his tiny baby finger.” Seungyoun remarks. 

Seungwoo doesn’t mind. 

_ Day unknown.  _

At some point, Seungyoun and Seungwoo stop counting the days since they met. When its been over five years, it’s time to start counting by larger units. They count years now. Their anniversary as a couple and their anniversary as a married couple. Dongpyo’s birthday and Dohyun’s birthday. Seungyoun’s birthday usually involves Seungwoo trying not to burn the house down while Wooseok and Hangyul watch their kids. Seungwoo doesn’t like to celebrate his. But every December 24th Seungyoun slips him the same snakeskin box as the kids mix up chocolate chip pancakes. 

“Happy birthday.” He says every year, soft enough so neither of their kids can hear. As Seungwoo presses their lips together. 

“Ew. Stop being so mushy.” Dongpyo remarks. 

At some point Dongpyo reaches the age that the Korean government mandates he be in school. He’d been going to preschool the year before, but those days were always half days, and Seungwoo could pick him up at noon. Just in time for lunch. 

Now, Seungwoo finds himself in an empty home. He doesn’t have to pick Dohyun up for another three hours. He has some much needed time to work on his latest work. 

His ears don’t know what to do with the silence. It’s been years since their baby monitor was fully functional, but he hasn’t broken the habit of checking it every hour. 

Maybe he’ll take a nap. 

He wakes up just in time to pull some pants on and rush out the door to pick up Dohyun. When he gets to preschool, he spots Wooseok, and the two men catch up while their kids play in the nearby park. 

“Remember when Dongpyo only wanted to wear shorts that one winter?” And Seungwoo laughs at the thought. “He made such a fuss and then the first thing he did was trip and scrape his knee!” 

“I remember!” Wooseok says and laughs with him. “I had to call Seungyoun because neither of you would stop crying.” 

Seungwoo buries his face in his hands, watching as Hyeongjun and Dohyun play in the sand. 

“Don’t remind me!” 

At some point Dongpyo begins to prefer Kim Yohan, his second grade homeroom teacher to his own father. He won’t stop talking about him. 

“He used to do Taekwondo dad!” He tells Seungwoo one night, as they spread tomato sauce over premade pizza crust. 

“So? Hangyul used to do Taekwondo.” He’s dismissive, maybe a tiny bit jealous. Just a bit. A tiny bit. 

“He was supposed to be in the Olympics!” Dongpyo babbles on. 

“Your father was on the U-20 National Team.” Seungyoun says, quite loudly, so his voice can be heard from the dining room. 

Dongpyo stops everything he’s doing and looks up at Seungwoo with awe. 

“ _You_ were on the U-20 National Team dad?!” 

“Why do you say that like you can’t believe it, huh?” Seungwoo teases. 

That night Seungyoun breaks out the old family albums. Neither kid can believe it when they see Seungwoo clad in a Korean football jersey. 

“This picture’s my favorite.” Seungyoun whispers to his husband. Pointing to a photo of Seungwoo with his hair all wild, sweat dripping down his arms, his right foots extended and he’s smiling bright. He’d just scored a goal. 

A photo like that used to make him itch, make his pulse race, leave an acidic taste in his mouth. Now, as he watches his sons marvel at his past, he feels warm. 

At some point both kids take up football, and Seungwoo begins to feel uneasy. They’ve moved. Hangyul and Wooseok had moved before them, and now they’re neighbors. 

“The schools here are great.” Wooseok had told him. 

They have a yard now, one big enough for their kids and their friends to play football. As their parents watch from inside. 

“It’s just an after school thing.” Seungyoun reminds him. 

“They can quit anytime they want to, if they’re not happy.” 

_“You can quit anytime you want to son. But you won’t. Because you’re better than that.”_

Seungwoo grunts. 

“Han Seungwoo!” Seungyoun raises his voice, and that’s when Seungwoo realizes that the egg in his hand has broken, and yolk is slipping out from his fingers. Seungyoun puts down his knife and hugs his husband from behind. Cheek pressed against his back, this time his voice is anything but soft. 

“You are not your father. You don’t have to worry. They love you.” 

At some point, Seungwoo and Seungyoun know that they’re racing against the clock. Both kids are in their rooms, all the lights out except for one. 

Seungyoun may be smaller and not as tall as Seungwoo, but he still has his husband pinned up against the wall that leads to their bathroom. 

It’s all a rush. 

Tension from work, finicky clients, Hangyul being in a bad mood, and clueless interns. The promise of getting lost in Seungwoo after the kids are put to bed had been the thin string holding Seungyoun together. 

He doesn’t have time to say pretty things that make Seungwoo blush. Nor the patience to hold onto every sound that comes from his mouth. He wants to be indulge Seungwoo. Wants to hear Seungwoo’s heartbeat quicken with each kiss to his neck. Listen as his breathing turns ragged when Seungyoun moves his hips up, so there is no longer any space between them. 

But there is no time for that today because in the back of Seungyoun’s mind he knows that at some point-- 

The bedroom door creaks open ever so slightly just as Seungyoun is separating Seungwoo from his pants. 

“Dad?” Dohyun calls out quietly, and the fire that had been burning so hot in the pit of Seungyoun’s stomach extinguishes in an instant. 

Seungwoo is unsure of what to do first, pull up his pants or button up his shirt. He fumbles with the zipper before Seungyoun catches him off guard. 

“I got this.” 

They kiss, lingering longer than they know they should. Then Seungyoun fixes his shirt, noticing that the top button has been torn off at some point, before he turns his attention to his youngest son. 

“Dad your hair looks weird.” Dohyun points out, with a knowing look. Seungyoun does his best to smooth down his hair, feeling judged. Like their roles have been reversed for a moment. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks Dohyun. 

It takes some coaxing on Seungyoun’s part before Dohyun finally admits that he wants the old night light at the end of the hall turned on. He makes his father promise he won’t tell Dongpyo, but as they pass by the older brother’s room, they hear a faint sound. 

“Wimp.” 

Dohyun doesn’t take too kindly to this, barging into the room. Pointing out that Dongpyo can’t sleep without his Snoopy doll. Before Seungyoun knows it, he’s mediating an argument. When he finally gets to leave, the two brothers are asleep in each other’s arms, smushed into Dongpyo’s bed. 

By the time Seungyoun returns, he’s too tired to think. Slipping into a comfy pair of pajamas and washing up in a haze. When he finally reaches the bed, Seungwoo’s arms are around his waist before his head hits the pillow. He smells like toothpaste and laundry detergent. He smells like home. 

“Tomorrow.” Seungwoo says, voice deeper than usual, and Seungyoun feels a shiver run down his spine. 

“Let’s go on a date. Just the two of us.” 

The fire inside Seungyoun ignites. 

At some point, Seungyoun and Seungwoo feel comfortable leaving the kids with a babysitter on a weekly basis. This happens to coincide with puberty. And neither Dongpyo nor Dohyun take kindly to their parents kissing them on the cheek. Dongpyo going as far as to mimic throwing up. This time, Seungyoun is the one who is nervous. 

“Babe. Junho knows CPR, he lives across from us. Wooseok trusts him. He has business cards!” Seungwoo reminds him, showing him the glossy card Junho had produced upon arrival. They’re standing with the door open, cold winter air rushing in. Junho is already instructing their sons to open up their textbooks and pull out their homework. He watches as Seungyoun relaxes slightly, and he decides he’s got to get him in the car before his husband backs out. But as he’s closing the door he falters for a moment, opening it back up. 

“Yeah dad?” Dohyun asks. 

“I love you.” He says. 

Neither of them miss a beat, rolling their eyes, but they still keep the smile on their faces. 

“Love you too.” They say. 

With that, he closes the door. 

Everything is going to be okay. 

  
  



End file.
